Confessions of a Fussy Redhead
by myStiCaLYia
Summary: Post OotP. Ginny is now in fifth year, and is thankfully somewhat done with fawning over Harry Potter. Mix her crude sense of humour and perfect BatBogey Jinx with exasperations over her first boyfriend and what do you get? RR!
1. July 4

**A/N: **I really shouldn't begin another story… when I have so many unfinished ones… but this was fun to write!

**The Truest of theTrue Strives of Ginny Weasley**

_July 4th, 12:34 PM_

I had promised myself that I would never get another journal, after what happened back in first year, but I couldn't help it; this one was so pretty. Mum had given me some money before the summer to buy some new quills for the upcoming year, but really, who goes shopping for quills for September in August? I managed to steal some of Fred's spare ones, so I was able to use that money for this journal. I _was_ going to pay him back, honest. But… eh. Fred's so rich now; he won't care about a couple of missing quills. Fred and George both.

I figured that since this was bought in a Muggle shop, it'll probably have exactly nil magic on it.

Probably.

I'm very tempted to close this book right now and burn it. But it's just such a pretty book…

And it had cost almost five galleons.

I can hear Fred coming up the stairs. Or George.

_2:42 PM_

Yes, I knew it was Fred! He always treats the stairs as though they're made of soundproof cement, instead of magic-togethered floorboards. Speaking of floorboards, Daddy spent roughly four hours trying to patch together the stairs leading into the attic, in an attempt to get rid of the ghoul for good. I don't think he really wants to do it, since the ghoul, whom I've personally gotten fond of as well and nicknamed Teapot, is really very sweet. He only knocks around when the house gets too quiet, and doesn't make any noise at all while I'm reading or studying.

Mum's caught sight of my journal. The conversation that took place afore and thereafter went like this:  
Mum: Ginny, what is that?  
Me: What is what?  
Mum: That book.  
Me: Oh, do you like it? It's called Loving You Till the End. It's very good.  
Mum: Not that trashy garbage, the one you're holding behind it.  
Me: Um… my journal.  
Mum: Excuse me? A journal?  
Here, her eyes start looking like they might burn a hole through my head)  
Me: Isn't it pretty?  
Mum: Throw it out.  
Me: Why!  
Mum: Because. Do you want what happened to you to happen again?  
Me: No. That's not going to happen again.  
Mum: Throw it out.  
Me: No!  
Mum: Throw it out!  
Me: NO!  
George: For Merlin's sake, shut up!  
Mum: Don't you dare tell your own mother to shut up! You and Fred have both gotten so impossible these days! I don't know where you're disappearing off to; just because you're allowed to Apparate now, doesn't mean you can go gallivanting off wherever you want! And there's another thing, I don't like how you've been throwing money around like pebbles…

Anyway, that was the gist of it. I took the opportunity to run back upstairs and hide my journal under my dresser. I love this rickety old house. It means that there are certain loose floorboards underneath almost every piece of furniture.

_7:20 PM_

I seem to have taken a liking into writing in here. I so need a girl to talk to. Hermione's not going to arrive for another two weeks, so I do not know how else I'm going to survive with six brothers in the house, two of whom seem bent on destroying everything they see by using magic everywhere. Honestly. Ten minutes ago, before I came back to write in this journal, I asked them to pass me a broom so I could sweep away the chicken droppings on our porch, and they magicked one to me, meaning it flew though the air, aiming straight between my eyes.

"Oh, Gods!" I cried, jumping off the porch for cover. The broom followed me off and chased me around the yard. I tripped over a boot and fell face-first into the hard dirt.

The broom landed on top of me rather harshly and nearly went right through my back, as it landed handle-first.

It was Bill who dragged me up off the dirt and took me inside. He cleaned up my face and handed me a broom. "Don't worry, they'll get theirs."

I love that smug smirk of Bill's.

Mum and Dad have been away a lot lately. They've been talking about a house, when they think I wasn't listening. But I rule at eavesdropping. This house they've been talking about, I'm beginning to think they're going to buy it or something. It sounded like it's pretty big. I don't know what I'll do if they bought a new house and want us to move into it. Cry, probably. And as much as Ron and my brothers say they hate living in this tiny house with the entire family and some guests at times, I know they'll be anguished at leaving it.

But really, if we are moving to a new house, I don't really think they think that Mum will stand for any temper tantrums they might throw. Darn. Ron threw throws the best tantrums. It's almost amusing to watch, though rather sad, seeing as how it always ends with his ears bright red and his face blotchy with red as well.

In any case, I am not leaving Teapot.


	2. July 5

A/N: I've lost my harddrive and everything on it. So I had to start from scratch again sigh. Oh well…

_July 5th, 8:02 PM_

It's been a perfectly horrible night. Truly. I never knew there could be so much anger in any of my family members. I just want to go to sleep and wake up and find that none of it has happened. I almost didn't want to write tonight, but because I have nobody to talk to, I've decided to write it all down and tell Hermione when she comes. All I can say is: Percy is such a son of a bitch.

Here's what happened:

Dad's been really stressed, what with the return of You-Know-Who, Dumbledore's sacking from various high places, and total mayhem at work. Dad's been demoted since the holidays began. Fudge's been tromping around the Ministry as though he owns it (which, in a sense, I guess he does), and chucking everybody he hates out of office. Charlie told me that it's gotten to the point where he'll kick you out as soon as he sees you nodding hello to Dumbledore. Dad's pay got cut by another 10. It may not seem like a lot, but it is, especially with four of us still in school.

Right, so tonight, when Percy came home from the Ministry, all joyful and bubbling with disgusting pride, and with Daddy, whose hours had been cut as well as his pay, already at home and eating dinner with the rest of us, we were all looking at him wearily.

"I have extremely good news!" Percy smiled, sitting down at his seat. He didn't touch the food Mum set out for him.

Dad wiped his mouth with a napkin, "What news?"

I looked up, hopefully waiting for news that Harry might be joining us soon. Okay, I know that I had promised to quit crushing on Harry, but I can care about him, can't I?

Anyway, Percy positively swelled with pride as he said, "I've been promoted!"

I was the only one who spoke. "Really?" I said, while everybody else sat in silence. Mum and Daddy exchanged looks. Dad did not look happy.

"Well?" Percy demanded, looking around at everybody.

"Percy…" Dad began, just as Mum said, "I don't think…"

Percy looked from Dad to Mum, and then back to Dad. His face was getting red. When Percy's face gets red, it's best to get the hell out of the way. I took a couple more pieces of pie in a napkin and dashed off to the stairs, followed by Fred, George, and Ron.

We ran into Fred and George's room on the second floor, the room closest to the fireworks starting downstairs.

"Percy, darling, listen to me…" Mum's voice drifted up the stairs. "I don't think the Minister was very… sincere… when he appointed you that position…"

"Molly, you're giving Fudge too much credit," Dad snapped, anger in every syllable. I truly, truly have never heard Dad pronounce his fury so clearly before. "The man is trying to use you as a goddamned bloody spy!"

Whoa. Fred and George stopped the snickers and we three froze.

"He is so in for it now!" Ron whispered gleefully. I shot him a dirty look and shushed him, because honestly, I feel a little sorry for Percy at the moment. Daddy may not get mad often, but he's about a thousand times scarier than Mum when he does.

At this point, I ran for my journal and huddled back into a corner to begin writing.

Anyway, Percy THEN demanded to know what the hell Dad meant by what he'd just said. Dad screamed back that Fudge was opening black books and filling them up faster than any baby can shit, and anybody who wasn't willing to work with him entered them forthwith. Mum started crying and begging Dad to stop using that kind of language and for Percy to calm down and talk it out.

Now, if I wasn't so afraid of losing my own backside, I'd have gone down there and

_  
Later, 1:33 AM_

PERCY LEFT! HOLY SHIT!

The entire house is silent, except for Mum's sobs in her room, which was right down the hall from where I am right now, sleeping on the floor in Ron's room with Fred and George. It's eerie.

…even Teapot's keeping quiet.


	3. July 6

_July 6, 1996, 6:55 AM_

Okay, I stopped writing all of a sudden yesterday and started up again in the middle of the night. Sorry about that.

So, while we were listening and I was scrawling down what I was hearing, there was a huge BANG from the kitchen, like someone Apparating, and then a very loud crash of china on the floor.

I'll not mention here what he said to Dad that made Daddy bang his fist on the table, but a minute later, Percy stomped up the stairs, cursing and screaming: "Fine! If that's what you want, that's just fine! I'm out of this dirt hole! Enjoy the rest of your life living in filth and obsessing over your worthless Muggle crap!"

Dude.

He crashed past Fred and George's room, and slammed the door in his. Through the wall, we could hear him opening and shutting drawers and dragging things about. Then his footsteps pounded down the hall again, and our door flew open.

Percy stormed into the room and stopped in front of me, with a suitcase in each hand, and breathing very, very hard. I thought for a minute he was going to hit me or something. Like, really.

"Ginny." He said harshly, "Get your things. We're getting out of here."

That was when I stopped writing and stared up at him. I'm sure my mouth probably opened too. Ron, Fred, and George did not move.

"We?" I asked, carefully.

"Hurry up, just pack something. I'm not staying here any longer than necessary." He replied coldly, dragging me off the chair onto my feet.

I yanked my arm back. "Dude, I'm not going anywhere with you." I said.

"Don't be ridiculous, are you saying you want to stay here and continue wearing old robes and going to school with books that are falling apart?" Percy hissed.

"And you can buy her whatever she wants, is that what you're saying, you son of a bitch?" Ron snapped.

"This is none of your business, Ronald. I don't want my sister to grow up in filth and a traitor to the Ministry. Now come." He tugged cruelly at my arm again.

Okay, dissing Dumbledore was enough, but calling our home filth and me a traitor?

**DUDE**.

"Percy, she ain't going nowhere with you. Now fuck out of this house or we'll blast you out ourselves!" George yelled, looking as though he was going to stick his wand up Percy's rear end.

Percy threw the twins a look dirtier than the one I'd given Ron before, glared at me once more, and then trampled out the door. We heard his suitcases drag on the stairs, and the slamming of our door. Mum's sobs became even louder. I stood and shut the door, not wanting to hear her cry.

"God… he's such a git…" I muttered. Seriously, I cannot believe that Percy tried to coax me to the Dark Side! Hello. Does he not know who I'm in love with?

Okay, I really have to get over that crush…

_2:10 PM_

I must say, Dad is holding up extremely well. He's not even crying or anything. Mum, on the other hand, seems determined to cry up a flood and drown us all in misery.

_5:19 PM_

Hmm… the two of them are discussing secret again, with Mum crying every other word. Wonder what it is. Probably ways on how to sneak poison into Percy's food without us (or him) knowing.

Yay!

_6:37 PM_

I am so bored it's not even funny.


	4. July 8

A/N: As you can see, I changed the name of the story. Sounds neater and much nicer. Plus it fits into story-title-thingamajig. Btw, EVERYBODY **REVIEW**!

_July 8, 1996, 9:59 AM_

Still very shocked about Percy's departure, though as what he said last night sank in deeper into my brain, I'm starting to like the fact that he's gone. At least now we can run about as loudly as we bloody want and nobody's going to be yelling at us to stop making a racket so he can do his reports.

His attempt at trying to drag me off totally scared the shit out of me. Like, I know he's my brother and he just wants me to enjoy new things once in a while, but really. There is absolutely no need to yell at Mum and Dad so horribly and swear at them. He wholly forgot who raised him and fed him for twenty years and kept a roof over his head, the same people who have now been reduced to tears and are not sleeping well.

Hmm… I am now feeling a strong urge to hike up to wherever the hell he is right now and give him a good sound kick in the arse. Or in the area parallel to the arse. Whatever floats my boat.

_10:13 AM_

OMG, Hermione came early! She wasn't supposed to arrive for another week and a half. But I guess Mum took pity on my boredom and got her to come early.

Dad just came home, and carrying Hermione's things, with herself right behind him.

"HERMIONE!" I cried, launching myself at her rather ungracefully. She shrieked and hugged me tightly.

Yes, Hermione shrieked.

Dude, I guess she was really bored at her house too.

Ron suddenly disappeared, his face as red as a tomato. I ran up the stairs with Hermione and helped her set her stuff down. Mum had already magicked out a second bed for her next to mine, and Hermione shoved the two together to form a nice big queen-sized bed. She and I giggled like there was nothing left of the world tomorrow.

Yes, Hermione and I.

Yeah.

All right, gotta go for breakfast. I'll write more later.

_1:15 PM_

Just finished lunch. Hermione and I spent the entire day with Ron, Fred, and George, chasing each other around until I accidentally tripped over a gnome and broke my nose slamming into the ground, face-first. Ah, echoes of four days ago…

Except this time, my nose actually broke and it was so damn painful that I swear a piece of my nasal bone poked itself right through my skin.

Me: AIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! (I'm pretty sure I didn't scream like that, but Ron begged to differ)

Hermione: GINNY! OH MY GOD! races over, draws wand, prepares to heal my nose

Ron: WE'RE UNDERAGE! DON'T DO IT! YOU'LL GET EXPELLED!

Fred: laughs, makes no attempts to magick me some help

George: laughs, grabs Fred to sustain balance, makes no attempt to magick me some help

Mum: races out, mends my nose, makes us go inside and read

So now I'm writing in my journal while everybody else is reading. Well, Hermione is anyway. Ron's just staring at his fingernails, occasionally sticking his thumbnail into one and flicking something out from under it. Sexy.

Fred and George are playing some form of footsie with each other; Hermione is throwing odd looks at them. Hmm, perhaps she wants to join in. I have always thought that my twin brothers are somewhat hot.

No, it is not wrong to think so of one's brothers, as long as one does not plan on doing anything else other than think said brothers are hot. In my case, I just think they are hot.

Yeah.

Anyway, should Hermione ever marry one of my brothers, I should like it to be Fred or George. Don't get me wrong, there are huge anvil-sized hints that Hermione fancies Ron and vice versa, but I just think that Hermione will be much happier with Fred or George. Why? Because they have a sense of humour and aren't so bloody sensitive.

Ron's ears turn into carrots when he's pissed. Like, one second into getting pissed off, they carrotise.

Mum is still crying lots. I tried to cheer her up by making lunch, but failed miserably. My sandwiches kept falling apart. George eventually separated each ingredient and eating them with a fork. Everybody else did the same. Except, of course, me; they are my babies and I refused to dismember them. Even if I ate them.

My nose is still hurting a little, especially when I breathe. My hand hurts too. I should probably stop writing in here so much and actually start a letter to Harry, because the poor dude is stuck there with his sons-of-bitches of relatives.

But you know who the real son of a bitch is? Percy.

Yeah.

**I must:**

**- **write letter to Harry

- borrow Emma from Hermione and read it

- knock greetings on ceilings to Teapot

- shave

- find out what Mum and Dad are whispering about (still!)

- find a way to cheer Mum up

- kill the gnome that tripped me


End file.
